


Sex and Death

by messedupdreamsandmelodies



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-05
Updated: 2015-10-05
Packaged: 2018-04-24 21:49:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4936591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/messedupdreamsandmelodies/pseuds/messedupdreamsandmelodies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on a Reddit Prompt: "Every time you sleep with a girl, she ends up dying, one way or another, because she isn't "the one" until after one drunken night, you wake up and there's someone snoring... and it's not who you'd expect."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sex and Death

He was lonely. Plain and simple. He’d long since stopped going to bars like this. Too risky, he thought bitterly. He preferred to drink his sorrows away in the safety of his own home. He swirled his double malt scotch in the old glass, and gulped it down, signalling to the bartender for another as he surveyed the scene around him. Some younger guys were throwing darts in the corner, flirting with the giggling girls who sat nearby. A group of friends crowded around an old fashioned jukebox against the wall, dancing drunkenly to old music. There were a few typical alcoholic old men spread out along the bar, each one staring morosely into his drink. He was on his way to becoming one of them, he knew, and the thought made him chuckle humorlessly.  
But then there was her. A short, happy brunette with sparkling blue eyes. He’d seen her here a few times when he’d actually given in and come to the bar. Sometimes she was with friends, and she always seemed to have a good time, but tonight she sat alone at the bar, her nose held close to a book as she read intently, sipping a beer. He liked the way her nose crinkled every once and awhile when she read, and how she changed pages so quickly, like she couldn’t stand to stop reading for too long. He hadn’t noticed he’d been staring at her for some time before she looked up and he quickly turned his attention back to his tumbler. He couldn’t. Not that she’d ever want to. Faces flashed through his mind. Cora. Zelena. Milah. It was all his fault. He downed the smooth, golden liquid once again, and didn’t even have to nod to the bartender, who refilled his glass wordlessly. Cora had died of a stray gunshot wound to the head, shot from the street, on her way to the bathroom after consummating their relationship for the first time. After his first time with Zelena, he had woken up to find her gasping for breath. He’d called nine one one, but she had an allergic reaction the the latex in the condom and they’d done everything they could, but she died in the hospital. Milah… Well, he had woken up the next morning to find Milah still beside him. Heart attack, they told him when they took her away. If he believed in soulmates, or God, he would say it was His way of punishing him for not waiting for his true love. Anyway, he couldn’t do that again. Not to himself, not to the poor, unsuspecting girl.  
He took a sip this time, determined to make it last. When he looked up, the brunette woman was sitting next to him, her book between them. He choked a bit on his scotch, spluttering. “It’s called Sarah’s Key.” She said, with a thick, warm, Australian accent.  
“Pardon?”  
“The book. I saw you looking, it’s quite good. I’d recommend it.” She nodded to the worn, paperback book.  
“Ah- I--” He took a large drink of his scotch, to give him something to do. He wasn’t about to tell her that it wasn’t the book he was staring at.  
“Can you get my friend a refill, over here?” She motioned to the bartender. “I’m Belle, by the way.”  
“Rumford.” He said shortly, but the alcohol was beginning to make it’s way into his system, and he could feel his body loosening ever so slightly.  
“Alright, Rumford, well since you were so obviously staring at my book, the least you could do is let me tell you about it. No spoilers, of course.” Belle prattled on, her eyes lighting up as she described the author’s writing style, and soon the two were engaged in a discussion about the differences between writing styles throughout history. Rumford’s cup kept refilling and he kept drinking, his thoughts becoming less and less gathered as the night went on.

***

He woke up with a start, and the memories began rushing back to him rushing over him like waves, drowning him in anxiety. Pushing Belle up against his front door as he fumbled with the key, and stumbling after her into his house. Heels being kicked off in the hallway, ripping off her shirt and dropping it to the floor… Oh no no no. No, Belle. Rumford’s heart ached, and he didn’t want to open his eyes. Her pants had come off, then his… oh no. No. He couldn’t believe he had been so careless. Another woman was dead because of him.  
Then he heard a loud snore somewhere to his right, and nearly jumped out of his skin. Opening his eyes slowly, he turned over to see a mess of brown curly hair on the pillow next to him. Her chest rose and fell slightly, and he sighed in relief. But… what did this mean?


End file.
